


What Price Pride and Honor?

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4258425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I only rated it Teen for the references made in my story. Nothing ever happens. It's just insinuated to happen. You'll understand after you've read it.<br/>This starts out on quite a serious note and then it gets a bit funnier toward the end.<br/>Involves an idiotic King Louis (so, what else is new there?) who follows Richelieu’s lead no matter what.</p><p>This is a one shot.</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Price Pride and Honor?

It had been nearly a week since young d’Artagnan had come barreling into the garrison demanding Athos’ head for the death of his father. But after clearing the Musketeer’s name he had become fast friends with all of the inseparables. Being new, it came as quite a shock to him when his presence was summoned before the king.

++++

_Royal Palace_

Entering the palace on his own, d’Artagnan wasn’t quite sure where he was supposed to go but some amused Red Guards pointed in the general direction he was to follow. So it was he found himself standing self-consciously in an empty throne room waiting for King Louis to put in an appearance.

After over twenty minutes cooling his heels, His Majesty entered with two Red Guards situating themselves at a distance near the entrance.

“D’Artagnan,” King Louis liked the look of the lad. The youngster appeared quite fit and very young. “I’ve already heard of your exploits in helping out one of my finest soldiers and hear you wish to join the ranks of my Musketeer corp.”

“Yes, sire,” d’Artagnan bowed his head.

“There are certain requirements you have to meet before becoming a recruit in the regiment,” King Louis made himself comfortable as he sat down. “You see, d’Artagnan, you have to pass a test of Cardinal Richelieu’s first.”

Frowning, d’Artagnan didn’t remember Captain Treville mentioning any such thing. Perhaps he wasn’t recalling correctly. “What sort of test if I may be allowed to ask?”

“Of course,” King Louis smiled. “You have to service the cardinal.”

“You mean I have to serve Cardinal Richelieu as in working for him before I can begin my training as a Musketeer?”

“Non,” King Louis shook his head. “I mean _service_ him in the carnal sense.”

Stunned beyond belief, d’Artagnan’s wits briefly left him as he stared at the king with his mouth agape. Several seconds later he shook himself from his stupor, eyes narrowed as he glared at the king. “Seems things have changed around here since my father served yours, sire,” d’Artagnan noticed the king didn’t appear to like his remark. Well too bad he thought. “If that is the requirement I sadly decline, Your Majesty.” He stiffly bowed, turned to leave and didn’t go more than a few steps when he stopped at the king’s next words.

“It is a relatively new edict from what I understand,” King Louis told him, slightly aggrieved at the tone of d’Artagnan’s voice. “Honestly you’re making a fuss about nothing much and into the bargain you’d be wasting quite an opportunity for yourself,” he huffed in irritation, not even seeing the wrongness of such an act the youngster was to perform. “Captain Treville has informed me that your sword arm rivals that of our Athos. Quite an accomplishment for one of your youth and inexperience,” he paused and observed the boy’s back stiffen even more. “I for one would be greatly disappointed if you decided to leave.” King Louis, not liking d’Artagnan’s back turned against him added one more thing, hoping to gain the lad’s attention. “You won’t get a second opportunity like this.”

Slowing turning back around, d’Artagnan took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “The price you would have me pay, sire, is my _pride and honor_ if I do as Cardinal Richelieu desires. I was not brought up in that manner and see no need to cater to His Eminence’ debase appetites.”

Knowing that the lad just insulted Richelieu, King Louis smiled despite himself. This child didn’t split hairs, he admired the boy’s fiery spirit. Still, this was a requirement the cardinal insisted on. “Take a few days to think this over before leaving us, if you would.”

“Your Majesty, if that is my only option open there is _nothing_ to think upon,” bowing his head once more, d’Artagnan spun on his heels and left the monarch looking like he had swallowed a lemon.

++++

_Garrison courtyard_

“But why are you leaving?” Aramis looked up into the young Gascon’s angry countenance as d’Artagnan sat upon his restless horse, Zad. Resting a hand on the lad’s thigh, Aramis grip tightened fractionally, as if he could hold d’Artagnan back from doing something so irrational. He wasn’t about to let the whelp leave them like this.

Seeing the older man wanted an explanation and knowing what they had gone through together along with Porthos, to free Athos, d’Artagnan gave in. “Paris and the Musketeers isn’t what I thought it would turn out to be, Aramis,” giving the marksman a sad smile. “Let’s leave it at that shall we?”

“No we shall not!” Aramis snapped. Removing his hand from d’Artagnan, he reached up and took off his hat and batted it against his leg in frustration. The lad was testing his patience to its limits and he was not happy about that. He hated waste and it would be one if d’Artagnan were to leave them.

“Where are you off too, whelp?” Porthos’ gruff voice broke the tension the large Musketeer could feel generating in the air between Aramis and the boy.

“Back to Lupiac,” d’Artagnan’s eyes slid over to the dark-skinned man, “where apparently I belong.”

“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard you say since our short acquaintance, d’Artagnan.” Athos glowered at the boy as he joined his friends in surrounding d’Artagnan who refused to get down from his horse.

Listening from the safety of the balcony above, Treville’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like what he had heard from d’Artagnan and was going to make it his business to find out the cause of the lad’s disquiet. Taking the steps two at a time, Treville joined the men. “What has changed, d’Artagnan?”

“My papa would turn over in his grave to see what has become of the illustrious Musketeers,” d’Artagnan sneered into the captain’s face, “if the pre-requisite for joining is to debase one’s self,” he spat out in disgust still remembering his disappointing conversation with His Majesty. “Forgive me my crudeness, but I will never offer up my _ass_ to Cardinal Richelieu, nor any man,” d’Artagnan’s lips tightened into a fine line.

“What the deuce are you on about?” Treville barked in confusion, his own Gascon temper barely held in check from the scathing remarks uttered by this pup who had yet to even grow a proper beard.

“Are you telling me that the captain of the Musketeers hasn’t heard about the cardinal’s latest edict,” d’Artagnan’s eyes spit daggers at the officer, “where any new recruit has to know His Eminence carnally before even aspiring to be welcomed into the brotherhood?”

“Mon Dieu!” Athos exclaimed as he locked gazes with the equally shocked ones of Porthos and Aramis.

“Who told you this?” Treville demanded, knowing in his heart that d’Artagnan would never make something so outlandish up, even though it was hard to swallow.

“King Louis himself, sir,” d’Artagnan noticed the shock register on the older man’s face and he started to realize that Treville had no prior knowledge of any of this.

“His Majesty condoned this?” Athos finally found his voice.

“He sounded like it would be the most natural thing in the world for me to agree too,” d’Artagnan hung his head down, staring at Zad’s long, dark mane. “I felt sick to my stomach.”

“Yeah,” Porthos grunted, “I’d of felt the same.”

“It makes absolutely no sense,” Aramis spoke out, just as confused as his fellow brothers.

“Do ya think the king’s been drugged?” Porthos glanced at Treville, whose face appeared etched in stone.

“Sodomy is against the church’s teachings,” Aramis muttered. “The king knows this,” he huffed. “As to being _drugged_ ,” he shrugged. “We’d have to let the palace physician take a look at His Majesty to find out if that were the case.”

“I think our monarch is nothing but Richelieu’s puppet,” d’Artagnan offered, knowing the men present were trying to give King Louis the benefit of the doubt.

“When the king told you it was a new edict,” Athos’ blue eyes darkened with a new understanding of the situation, “it was meant just for you, d’Artagnan.”

“How so?” d’Artagnan’s hands tightened his hold on Zad’s reins as his mount became skittish from standing idle for so long.

“If not for you helping Aramis and Porthos clear my name I would have been shot to death as a branded criminal,” Athos smiled grimly. “I know the whole thing was set up by the cardinal to damage not only my reputation but to bring down the entire Musketeer regiment along with my demise.”

“And by helping us,” Aramis quickly caught on, “you foiled Richelieu’s plot.”

“So now the whelp’s a target for His Eminence’s vengeance,” Porthos added, understanding dawned for him as well.

“The cardinal knew you’d refuse to bow to him in this manner,” Treville’s harsh voice told its own story as his anger grew, “thus turning your back on the Musketeers.”

“Making us lose the most promising recruit I’ve yet to meet,” Athos admitted, noting the boy’s brown eyes light up at his rare words of praise.

“In a round about way Richelieu was the cause of your pere’s death,” Aramis stated, hoping to light a fire under the Gascon making d’Artagnan want to stay with them.

“I’ll never see satisfaction that way,” d’Artagnan shook his head. “Richelieu’s untouchable.”

“Gents,” Treville grinned at them, “I’ve got an idea.”

++++

_Palais-Cardinal, Richelieu’s office_

One of his Red Guards rushed into Cardinal Richelieu’s office quite distressed. “Your Eminence, there are at least twenty Musketeers awaiting an audience with you out in the hallway.”

Eyes opening wide in surprise, Richelieu sat back in his chair, his hand idly holding a pen. “I’ve no time to see anyone,” his tone was sharp. “But find out what they want anyway and then tell them to be off,” he ordered and went back to writing his letter.

Before the guard could take his leave, those Musketeers walked inside the room without invitation. Leading the pack was Captain Treville who noticed the incredulous look that crossed over the cardinal’s face at their actions.

“Treville!” Richelieu’s voice rose in annoyance at being disturbed, “what is the meaning of this interruption?”

“My men and I are here to fulfill your personal edict,” Treville watched as the wheels slowly turned in the cardinal’s wily, grey head.

“ _My personal edict_?” Richelieu frowned, trying to remember what it was.

“The lad, d’Artagnan told us what His Majesty explained to him about what you required from the boy to become one of my recruits.”

“But why are _they_ ,” Richelieu waved his hand toward the Musketeers standing in attendance, “all here?”

“They didn’t feel it quite fair on d’Artagnan to be the first one to fulfill your wishes,” Treville’s tone dripped sarcasm. “Since my men have been here much longer they thought it only right to do the same.”

“But… but,” Richelieu sputtered, at a loss for words which was a first for him in his long career.

“The rest of my regiment are awaiting your pleasure in the courtyard as well,” Treville added with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. Noting the cardinal’s face turn several shades of unbecoming red brought immense pleasure to him.

Realizing that he had been hoisted on his own petard, Richelieu sighed in resignation. “Dismiss your men, Captain,” his tone dryer than dust.

“Does this mean d’Artagnan…” Treville trailed off, grinning like a Cheshire cat as the cardinal held up his hand in exasperation.

“Can forget about my edict, oui,” Richelieu nodded jerkily. “It’s rescinded as of now.”

Bending to whisper in Richelieu’s ear, Treville waved his men out of the office. “Hurts to lose doesn’t it?”

Containing his rage at how the tables had been turned against him, Richelieu seethed quietly. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Oui,” Treville smirked. “Explaining to the king why you told him new recruits had to service you.”

“I trust you will come up with something that doesn’t make me appear the fool,” Richeleiu ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll give it my best shot,” Treville cocked his head to the side as he studied the cardinal. “Though it does amaze me at how King Louis took what you had said at face value so easily without questions asked,” he raised a brow.

“I can lead Louis around by the nose,” Richelieu snorted, “and well you know it.”

“And that may one day lead to France’s downfall,” Treville pointed out and with those parting words took his leave. He wondered if the cardinal would see the folly of his actions or not.

++++

_Athos’ apartments_

“I can’t believe the men went to all that trouble just for me,” d’Artagnan relaxed around the table where all the inseparables sat drinking wine that was kindly provided by Athos. Captain Treville had also graced them with his presence and was enjoying the fine Anjou as well.

“Because they see the potential in you that we all do,” Athos quirked an eyebrow.

“Plus we’re all brothers,” Aramis winked at the boy. “We stand by our own.”

“Wish we could have seen the cardinal’s beaky face when our men filed into his office,” Porthos downed his glass of wine in satisfaction.

“Gents, I believe Richelieu will think first before opening his mouth from now on or else it may prove too difficult for him to get out of his next lie,” Treville sipped his wine slowly, relishing its flavor on his tongue.

“How did you settle things with His Majesty?” Athos asked his captain.

“I merely said that the cardinal had been jesting and did not think King Louis would take his words to heart the way he did,” Treville chuckled at the amused faces of his men.

“The cardinal will have to watch his words around the king for awhile,” Aramis smiled. “I doubt King Louis appreciates appearing the fool.”

“An apology should be coming d’Artagnan’s way shortly,” Treville glanced fondly at the youngster. “His Majesty would not want you to think badly of him.”

D’Artagnan merely shrugged his slims shoulders. “Whether he gives one or not does not matter,” he frowned down into his drink. “What worries me is how he followed Cardinal Richelieu’s edict without question.”

“Oui,” Aramis agreed. “Therein lies our number one problem we’ve been dealing with of late.”

“Which can always be tackled at another time,” Athos wisely reminded them. Raising his glass first in a toast, he looked straight into d’Artagnan’s eyes. “To our newest petite frère,” he smiled. “May you continue to stir the murky waters the rest of us somehow find ourselves floundering in.”

Blushing, d’Artagnan ducked his head shyly.

“Yeah,” Porthos laughed and held up his own glass. “Give Richelieu hell, whelp!”

“And wise counsel to King Louis when needed,” Treville raised his glass too, smiling into the lad’s shining eyes.

Glass held high, Aramis smirked as his gaze caught the boy’s. “I always wanted a _chiot_ around the garrison.”

Picking up Porthos’ hat off the floor, d’Artagnan threw it with deadly accuracy at Aramis’ head.

“Looks like our _chiot_ needs some obedience training,” Porthos chuckled as Aramis fixed his hair that got mussed up.

Leaning close to Athos, d’Artagnan whispered, “Is this how it will be from now on?”

“Non,” Athos slyly grinned, “it will get much worse for you, mon garcon.”

Settling back against his chair, d’Artagnan rolled his eyes. “Guess brothers will be brothers and I best get used to it.”

“You have the right of it, whelp,” Porthos snorted and winked at their pup.

As the inseparables and Treville stood up, raising their glasses high, as one they said what was in their hearts. _“Welcome to our brotherhood, d’Artagnan!”_

The End


End file.
